


Cold, Warm, Tepid

by galaxy_warping



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Being an Idiot, Fainting, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heat Stroke, Hypothermia, Insecure Logic | Logan Sanders, M/M, can be read as romantic or platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-09 07:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17402807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxy_warping/pseuds/galaxy_warping
Summary: Roman runs hot, Logan runs cold. What happens when they aren't there to balance eachother out?(a.k.a. I write stuff that I would like to read but can't find)





	1. Chapter 1

Logan knew that something had gone severely, irreversibly wrong. He felt it crawling under his skin, a mistake, a flaw he couldn't smooth out as it danced tantalizingly away from his focus. Something was _wrong_. 

He was, however, very successful in ignoring just how long it had been since he had spoken to Roman. In fact, he never even thought about it. The memory of their last conversation didn't run itself over and over like a scratched CD in Logan’s mind during any idle moment, of course not. That would be ridiculous. 

Logan shook his head slightly. He was even losing arguments with himself. 

_Look, if we both stay away from each other, we can get our jobs done without arguing._

Stop it.

_You saw how it upset the others, Logan. Maybe this way we can spare their feelings as well as our own._

Shut up, Roman.

_I'll be in the imagination if you need me, I suppose._

I don't care, go away.

_Fine, have it your way. Goodbye Logan._

He was gone. Roman was gone and Logan didn't have the pride to ask him to come back. He almost laughed at himself, at the stubborn ache that had rooted itself left of center in his chest. 

The argument had been inane, Logan was sure, easily solvable by simple reason and understanding. It was obvious, then, that Roman struggled with the concept. It had started over something small, the dishes to be exact, and escalated, as most things do. Logan did not see the point in him completing a chore within the entirely imaginary landscape of Thomas's mind as the task. Roman took offense at Logan's ‘disregard’ for the ‘singular best price of the mind’ that was ‘quite obviously superior’ to Logan's quadrant.

The argument itself didn't matter, though. 

Roman was gone.

And Logan…

Logan was cold.

He despised the sensation, hated the fact that he could feel _anything_. 

Roman was warm.

Logan also despised admitting that, but he missed the constant warmth bordering on heat that radiated constantly from his creative counterpart. Logan naturally ran cold, not bothering to incorporate lifelike qualities into his being (after all, they weren't _alive_ , what's the point in pretending?) but Roman took great pains in building himself as realistically as possible.

That included, of course, a standard human body temperature.

Upon Logan’s discovery of the difference, he got curious. And, as it does occasionally, curiosity became longing. 

Logan wanted to touch, to hold, to _feel_ the warmth. The more he thought about it in the present, the reality without Roman, the colder he became. He shivered slightly, trying to ignore the ice crystals forming at the hem of his shirt sleeves. He was fine, everything was fine.

The room got colder. Darkness invaded the edges of Logan's consciousness, the lights dimming and making it harder for him to see his desk. This would not do, there was work to be done! Flicking the lightbulb of his faulty desk lamp brought it back to life for a few more minutes.

He could leave his room, he could go to Patton, he could sit in the commons to get warm again, he could do many, many things.

He sat at his desk.

_He kept writing_.

Maybe, in hindsight, it was a bad idea. Maybe he should have paid attention to the ice and frost creeping up his arms and over his cheeks. But maybe this is what he deserved. Maybe…maybe this is how it should have always been. Logan had never need creativity before, but he ran cold and Roman showed no sign of burning out. Maybe he was just selfish, maybe he was just cold, but for a moment he wished to reach his hand out like he always did and have it caught by another, have it warmed and held like something good: something _precious_. 

The cold was getting to him, even at his most stubborn Logan could see it coming. He felt his joints stiffen, felt his hair crackle with ice crystals, heard his fingers creak as he continued to write sluggishly. The words had changed on the paper, no longer just research or memories or equations, but a letter. 

Logan didn't bother reading over it, didn't think to check for misspellings or mistakes despite how he knew that they were there. Roman wouldn't mind after all.

It was fitting that his last thoughts were about him, about the warmth he had lost.

...

Roman could feel cold sleeping out from under Logan's door the moment he closed it after him. It sent a sharp spike of pain through his chest. Knowing that he had hurt the other side was a worse ache than anything Roman had felt before, but it had to be done. 

The constant arguing, the disregard, the judgment: it all buzzed in his head like a swarm of loud and very logical bees, butting against every open nerve and soft spot. 

Roman was tired, he knew that Logan was too.

Maybe this was the best solution, maybe separation could fix them.

_Maybe he was hurt, maybe this was the only retaliation that he had left in his arsenal to hurt one of the only people he truly cared about._

Roman finally escaped into his room, surrounding himself with the imaginary wildlife that lay just beyond his door in the mindscape. The scene glowed slightly with fireflies, each detail enhanced and perfected until it looked like the inside of a fairytale. He could feel warmth climbing up his spine despite the nighttime scenery of the forest. He shouldn't be alone for too long, a voice that sounded a but too much like Logan for his taste chimed in at the back of his head. 

When not around the other sides, Roman tended to overheat. He tended to boast about it representing his fiery passion within him, but Virgil preferred ‘Hothead’ as an easy explanation (as well as a nickname that Roman wish hadn't stuck so well). 

The Logan inside his head started to list off the signs and effects of heat exhaustion and thermal burns but Roman tuned him out, ignoring the voice of metaphorical and literal reason. 

He had never needed Logan before, after all. He had always dealt with his own problems, he was the prince and the representation of creativity, he didn't need the others to help him.

Silently, he willed the imagination to fill with snow.

_His hands began to sweat._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't lookin the best for these boys...

Logan felt fine for a day or two, even convinced himself that everything was alright. Sure, his joints creaked slightly, maybe he felt more tired than usual, but as a whole he was just fine.

Or he had been.

Now he was stuck.

Collapsed halfway between his desk and his bed, Logan lay still. Frozen.

Logically, he knew that this would happen eventually. As the coldest side as well as arguably the least social, he had had his fair share of these freezes before and had been rescued by his warmer counterparts promptly.

However, those rescues had only ever occurred while his door was unlocked or he was already in the commons where he could easily be found by one of the others.

_So now he was not only frozen, but trapped_.

Faint memories came in and out of focus in his exhausted mind. He and Roman had something good going, that much he was sure of, before all of the arguments and fighting and, if he was honest with himself, self-worth issues they struggled with. Roman pulled away. Roman let go of his hand during movie night, leaving him cold in more ways than one. Roman got out of their previously shared bed during a particularly cold winter night. Roman had let him freeze.

But, at the moment, Logan couldn’t bring himself to be angry.

Logan mourned the loss of the warmth and the heat, the equilibrium that they reached that nearly made him feel normal. Without the others he felt physically robotic as well as mentally.

He was helpless but to see himself as a broken, unoiled automaton left behind.

Maybe Roman had rubbed off too much creativity onto him.

His eyes were closed, a last minute decision for which Logan thanked every star in the sky. Years before, he had accidentally been caught frozen with his eyes open, frost creeping into the edges of his vision and crystallizing on them painfully. He was lucky that Virgil had found him before it had gotten any worse. He winced internally at the memory, Virgil had looked so scared.

His brain began to slow, dulling down the facts and figures. Maybe it was for the best, he thought distantly, at least he couldn't track every grave symptom of hypothermia or give factual causes to pain. He just floated aimlessly. With his past few moments, he felt the memory of a body pressed against him, warm hands holding his, a heat he could never hope to achieve radiating through his skin. 

Logan let his mind fall quiet, trying in vain not to think of Roman before he fell asleep.

…

 

He really thought he was stronger than this, stronger than missing Logan after only a day of separation. He was wrong, apparently, as he stood sweating in the middle of a snowstorm.

Roman wasn’t too blind to see that he had to return to the logical side’s presence eventually to avoid a total heat stroke, but he couldn’t seem to get himself to move. Virgil had always called him out for being too stubborn and though Roman protested in his typical manner, it was an obvious fact. He couldn’t even convince himself to do something.

Spacing out, he focused on the snowflakes. In nature, snowflakes all have their unique patterns but in the mindscape, no matter how strong Thomas’s imagination, the snow was more uniform and nebulous. It passed easily as snow if it wasn’t studied, though.

It didn’t stand up to Logan’s fastidious nature, though. Within minutes of taking the other side into the imagination on an artificial snow day, he had pointed out the ‘obvious flaw’ that ‘required immediate rectification’. They had ended up sitting in the snow for hours, crafting individual, unique snowflakes out of Logan’s persistence and Roman’s likely misguided endeavor to see the unrestrained smile the other would produce with each successful flake. His chest warmed at the memory, luckily in a figurative way instead of the current overheating that he faced.

Logan had been so happy. There was no argument, no contest. Roman ached to go back to that scene.

The snow sizzled and melted instantly upon contact with his skin as it reached a near-feverish temperature, but Roman paid it no mind. He sat down on the top of the little hill his bed rested on top of, willing a new creation into being. 

In a moment, a facsimile of Logan sat beside Roman, cradling a few tiny snowflakes in his palm.

Roman smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Logan must have been way more out of it than he thought that he was, but give him a break, freezing to death will do that to anyone. Regardless, he was taken by complete surprise as he heard what sounded like and explosion to his left. For the first time since he had frozen up completely, he desperately wished that his eyes had remained open. 

“Logan? Are you alright? You didn't answer your door so I had to break it down in case you were hurt or… Oh my god, please don't be dead…”

If he weren't frozen solid, Logan would have flinched a lot harder than he did when whoever had broken into his room laid a hand on his shoulder. It felt like he was being branded, pure fire burning into his skin. He must have let out some small noise of distress as the heat was instantly retracted.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, incredibly sorry Logan. I completely forgot. Should I go get Patton or Virgil?”

Logan jerked his head sharply, there was no way he wanted anyone seeing him like this, especially the two most likely to panic if they saw him in his current state. He tried desperately to believe that was the only reason, shoving away the shame and embarrassment he definitely wasn't feeling.

Distantly, he heard Roman's - he assumed his visitor could only be Roman based on his voice and the reference to the two other inhabitants of the mindscape in third person - footsteps depart from his location on the floor and, a few moments later, the shower turning on in the other room.

Logan felt his kind shutting down again, subconscious satisfied that he would be taken care of no matter what. His last few moments of awareness were bathed in warmth - despite still being frozen - the first time since Roman had left

…

Roman's internal monologue was typically grandiose or at the very least dramatic, but at the moment all rational thought had been replaced by a constant stream of curses that he was sure would make Patton upset with him. When he had broken down the door to Logan's room, the chill had nearly knocked him backwards. He had pushed forward, however, just to be stopped dead at the sight of the other side curled up on the floor, crystalline patterns of delicate ice crystals standing out grimmly on his too-pale skin. 

All of the sides knew that they couldn't technically die unless Thomas was dying, or at least that was the theory, but something about seeing Logan like that had sparked cold dread in Roman's overheated core.

Currently, he was running a shower. It was a half-baked plan he remembered from something Logan had taught him about hypothermia and he silently prayed that it would work. He waited for a moment for the water to run lukewarm before rushing back to Logan's side, his breath fogging warmth into the frigid air.

He was careful not to touch skin to skin with the frozen side, painfully aware of the burning sensation both of them felt at the contact with their polar opposite temperatures. Roman was the lucky one, though, as the chill Logan's room gradually brought down the fever-like heat he had felt earlier. 

He managed to get Logan into the bathroom without too much hassle, but the cold spot of dread he felt upon entering the room was spreading as he realized how truly frozen Logan was. In the process of carrying him across the room, his limbs barely shifted from where they rested curled into the other side's chest. Roman wished he had just called in Patton and Virgil instead of asking Logan, but he persevered until, finally, the frozen side was situated relatively comfortably inside the small shower, rivulets of water hissing against the ice crystals and bringing tiny increments of color back to his pale skin.

In any other situation, Roman would have fidgeted out of his mind at the prospect of sitting still and literally watching ice melt, but for once he was paralyzed with worry at the state Logan was in.

He sat still and waited for Logan to come back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait, i get discouraged if i don't get feedback on my work so i don't post chapters haha. shoutout to the people who commented or given kudos or whatever bc you are what fuels my creative process. the next chapter should be up shortly (don't worry, there will be plenty of cuddles!!!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god oh fuck two chapters in one day let's goooooooo

Logan woke up slowly, the only sensation coming through at first being an intense discord between the heat of his surroundings and the cold still present in his bones which seemed to creak under the pressure of the water, which he registered next as his hearing returned.

He cracked his eyes open fractionally, turning his face away from the spray.

The first thing he saw, coincidentally, was the worried but elated face of one Roman Sanders.

“Welcome back, darling,” he said softly, an even softer look on his face. Logan was instantly overwhelmed by the unruly emotions bubbling nervously to the surface of his mind at the sudden warmth Roman had supplied him with.

“I don't understand your premise as I am obviously still in our place of living and have no memory of leaving since we last spoke.” As he replied haltingly, he struggled to sit up against the wall behind him. Roman was quickly at his side, though, steadying him as he attempted to right himself. 

“You know that's not what I meant. Please slow down, you were frozen solid only a few hours ago.” A few notes of panic crept into the other side's voice as he spoke, revealing a level of worry under the relieved warmth. Logan relented slightly, allowing Roman to guide him out of the shower. He could barely focus on anything but his newfound headache and the warm spots that Roman's hands were leaving along his sides and up and down his arms. Roman was rambling on about something but he didn't register any of it, choosing instead to slump against him slightly.

“-but I managed to… Logan, are you even listening?”

Logan shook his head slightly as he began to shiver, the water on his skin chilling in the air, his wet clothes clinging to him and leeching the warmth out of him. He watched as Roman's face returned to a sort of panic that Logan couldn't fully understand. In a flash, Roman had departed his field of vision, leaving Logan lost for a moment without his mooring point. “Wait..”

Before he could finish his sentence, his vision went completely dark. After another confusing moment, light filtered through once more as Roman shifted the fluffy towel he had put over Logan's head. He ruffled his hair for a few seconds before dropping the towel to his shoulders. He gave him a smile warmer than the water, warmer than the water, warmer than he had ever felt before. Logan smiled back.

“I'll go get you some dry clothes.”

Roman was stopped short, however, by a cold hand wrapped around his wrist

“Logan?” He could hear the soft confusion in his counterpart's voice, but a warm hand covered his own, quelling his fear.

“You'll come back, correct?”

He was met with a gentle quiet. Then, softly, a small kiss was pressed into his hair, radiating ever more heat throughout his body. Logan shivered again involuntarily, but it was not from the cold.

“Of course, my love.”

With that, Logan was left alone in the bathroom, seated on the floor with cold blood coloring his cheeks and a warm towel wrapped around him. How peculiar.

...

Roman knew that Logan was relatively ascetic, but he certainly didn't expect the side to have no other clothes than around 10 pairs of the same jeans and polos he wore for videos. No pajamas, no soft things. Frankly, Roman was offended by the complete self-denial Logan must have had to not own a singular sweater. So offended, in fact, that he sneaked into his own room to snag a pair of his own pajama pants and a huge fluffy sweater.

He silently made his way back into the hallway and-

“What the hell are you doing?”

Virgil stood at the end of the hall, holding a cup of his likely over-sweetened coffee.

Roman stood at the other end, carrying oversized pajamas with his hand on Logan's half opened door

“Absolutely nothing. None of your business.”

Virgil gave him a look. Roman wilted slightly.

“I'll tell you later, alright?”

“Fine. But I'm only letting you go because I'm fuckin’ tired. Also, tell Logan that he doesn't need to be so goddamn secretive when he's in trouble. He likes being little spoon.” 

With that, Virgil turned and went back into the kitchen, leaving Roman stunned in the doorway. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence, but Roman opted to forget about it for the moment to get back to the logical side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> virgil made an appearance which of course brings along excessive cursing bc i feel like it. comments and kudos directly feed the number of chapters in this story also i love all of you


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is becoming monsterous but i couldn't not add more to this so there'll be more chapters after this one, i love you all!!!

Logan couldn't quite wrap his head around what was happening. The last time he and Roman had spoken, the other had effectively told him that they shouldn't interact casually anymore. Logan was under the impression that Roman would respect those boundaries as he was the one to set them, but here he was caring for Logan like nothing had changed.

He tried to convince himself that the flutterings in his chest at the thought were brought on by confusion, perhaps side-effects of thawing, or simply his body's acclimation to the newly warm climate of his room. 

It couldn't be happiness, it couldn't be the stubborn fondness that he tried desperately to keep hidden.

Even if it was, it wouldn't last.

Roman was more than likely to remember their ‘argument’ as soon as he was well enough to maintain homeostasis, and go back to their previously agreed upon parting of ways.

He also tried to convince himself that the thought of Roman leaving once more seemed to chill him more than anything he had felt before. He closed his eyes.

…

The erratic side made it back into Logan's bathroom without any other interruption. The side himself was still where Roman had left him, shivering slightly in the still-cold air, eyes closed against the draft.

“I couldn't find any warm clothes in your room, I hope you don't mind…”

Logan opened his eyes slowly, blinking up at Roman. “You came back.”

He let out a nervous laugh. “Well, of course I did! Were you expecting me to just leave you here?”

Logan made a small, unexpected noise of affirmation. 

“Why wouldn't I come back? Darling…”

“You left before.”

“Yes, to get you dry clothes-”

The colder side went rigid, and an unnatural flame came to life in Logan's eyes. The sudden ferocity that nearly sent Roman reeling as Logan's glarr snapped up to meet his own gaze. “ _No._ Before, you told me our partnership was ill-advised and you left.”

The fight left Logan, leaving him to slump against the tile once more.

“You _left_. It was only logical to assume that you would do so again now that I am perfectly capable of caring for myself.”

“Darling-”

“Stop saying that.”

“Logan, let me finish.”

He went quiet. Roman let out a sigh, taking a seat in front of his counterpart.

“I was wrong to say those things to you. I'm not wrong often, so you got the privilege of witnessing a rare event.” That got a tiny huff of amusement out of the other side which Roman took as a sign of encouragement. “I just...I get so tired of fighting with you. It's no excuse, but it hurts sometimes that we can't just...coexist.”

“We certainly could,” Logan shifted so that he was leaning towards the heat Roman was emitting, “if you weren't so insufferable at every opportunity presented to you.”

And there they were, both smiling like idiots in a poorly lit bathroom, each overheated, freezing. Logan reached for Roman's hand idly.

“Roman, I don't believe that you are healthy.”

“I don't think I want to have any more character development in your bathroom than strictly necessary.”

“That is not what I mean. I am lead to believe by the temperature of your skin that you have a high fever, probably in the range of 103 to 105 degrees Fahrenheit. Are you feeling alright?”

“I'm perfectly fine, darling, you don't need to worry about me.”

“I could tell you the same thing, but here you are. I believe that you are in need of medication and bedrest.”

Roman winced slightly. “Let's get you into dry clothes and into my room, alright? You'll warm up faster in the heat.” It was an obvious deflection, but Logan looked too tired, too cold to argue. With aching slowness, Roman helped Logan slip off his soaked clothing, already crusting over with new frost. He couldn't ignore how adorable the other side looked in comfortable clothing and he took great pleasure in bundling Logan up in his arms, carrying him to his own room and out of the cold.

**Author's Note:**

> I might write more in this au if it does well. The breakdown is that Logan is cold, Virgil is cool, Patton is warm, and Roman is hot. This one is mostly because I'm a hoe for Logince and also love sickfics involving hypothermia or fainting but also want cuddles.


End file.
